The God Particle (17 page)

Frederick paused for a moment, gazing out of the window,
then continued.

‘Whilst working publicly on President Eisenhower’s Atoms for
Peace campaign, which sought to encourage countries to use nuclear technology
for energy purposes, his real influence was as a cohesive force in a
clandestine organisation committed to the prevention of the development of
nuclear armaments. The two roles went hand in hand. Whilst the former gave him
legitimate access to countries aspiring to develop their own nuclear
programmes, the latter enabled our organisation to infiltrate the facilities to
ensure that the technology was being used appropriately. Ironically, the first
nuclear reactors in Iran and Pakistan were built under the programme. SHIVA
managed to impede the transition of Pakistan’s nuclear energy to missile
capability until the mid-1980s, as we are still doing in Iran, although I fear
we are losing control in that particular facility.’

‘Shiva? As in the statue at the entrance of the main
building?’ An image of Ajay suddenly flashed through Tom’s mind.

Frederick gave a wry smile. ‘I thought you may have guessed
by now. I mentioned earlier that Robert had given our organisation an identity.
He chose SHIVA from his Hindu teachings – the transformer or destroyer. He
thought it appropriate at the time, because of the mission we were embarking
on. If successful, we would transform the world into a better place by
producing cheap nuclear fuel that would benefit the whole of mankind. If we
failed, then…’

‘But why are you telling me all this?’ asked Tom.

Frederick was just about to answer when the phone on his
desk rang again. He held up his hand in an apology to Tom and took the call.
‘Volker here.’

There was a pause as the person on the other end of the line
asked a question.

‘A security guard?’ Frederick repeated, looking puzzled.
Then he glanced up at Tom and realised what the inspector was alluding to. ‘Er…
yes, I asked him to come to see me because I wanted to know if there had been
any news on Ajay.’

Another pause.

‘Over an hour ago. Why?’

A longer pause this time. ‘I see,’ said Frederick. ‘Well, if
I spot him on the base, I will let you know immediately.’

Frederick replaced the handset in the receiver and turned
his attention to Tom. ‘I think we should get you out of here. That was
Inspector Gervaux. They’re looking for you in connection with the bombing.’

‘That’s ridiculous!’ Tom replied indignantly. ‘I’ll go and
speak to him straight away.’

‘That wouldn’t be advisable. They seem to think that they
have enough evidence to arrest you for murder.’

‘What evidence?’

Frederick didn’t answer.

‘What evidence, Frederick?’ Tom repeated more slowly.

‘It’s possible that you’ve been framed.’ Frederick held up
the palms of both hands to stop Tom asking any more questions. ‘What’s
important now is to get you to a safe place until we can sort this out with the
authorities. If they arrest you now, there’s no guarantee they will listen to
reason.’

Tom was bewildered. ‘But I don’t understand...’

‘I’ll explain later,’ replied Frederick. ‘But at the moment,
I’m not sure the Inspector believed my story about the security guard, so we
really should get out of here.’

***

‘Nothing.’ Sergeant Lavelle had just finished reviewing the
tapes, which focussed on the entrance to the building the security guard had
entered.

‘Is there a back way out?’ Inspector Gervaux asked the Chief
Security Officer without taking his eyes off the screen.

‘Not to my knowledge.’

‘Then he must still be in there.’ Inspector Gervaux’s
usually Germanic composure was giving way to his French temperament, which
Sergeant Lavelle had witnessed only on a handful of occasions and knew to stay
out of his way until balance was restored. Unfortunately, this time he had no
option but to ride it out.

‘Not any more.’ Sergeant Lavelle was pointing to the screen,
which was showing Herr Volker leaving the building accompanied by the security
guard.

All three men watched intently as the two people got into a
black car and drove off down the main boulevard.

‘Can you track them?’ It was more of a demand from Gervaux
than a question.

‘Of course. We have one hundred per cent coverage of the
entire complex,’ the Chief Security Officer said with pride. He was a little
uncomfortable sitting in front of the large monitor with two policemen hunched
over either side of him. He was used to the confines of his office but, with
three fully-grown adults occupying the space, it was feeling decidedly
claustrophobic. To make matters worse, somebody had been eating garlic and he
knew it wasn’t him. He moved the mouse over the vehicle’s number plate and
right-clicked. A red box appeared which stated that LPR (licence plate
recognition) was activated.

‘We should be able to monitor the car wherever it goes now,’
he said. ‘The cameras will automatically pick it up when it passes by.’

The car was driving off into the distance and it was just a
speck now. Lavelle looked over the shoulders of the seated man at his superior
and rolled his eyes.

‘Any second now another camera should pick it up…’ continued
the Chief Security Officer, his top lip beginning to sweat. ‘Wait… wait… wait.’
The car had disappeared entirely from view. Just as he was starting to lose
faith in the technology, the monitor flickered to show the vehicle filling up
the whole screen again. ‘There!’ he said with a sigh of relief.

‘Wait. Go back,’ Gervaux demanded. He had seen a white
object appear in the bottom right-hand corner, just before the image changed.

The security officer pressed some buttons on the keyboard
and the picture reverted to the previous scene. The white golf buggy being
driven by Serena had immerged from the alley and was following the black
Mercedes.

‘Can we track both vehicles at the same time?’ asked the
inspector.

‘Yes, I can toggle between the two.’ The Chief Security
Officer demonstrated by pressing the forwards and backwards keys with his
forefinger – the Mercedes, golf buggy, Mercedes, golf buggy.

‘Okay, keep the camera on the buggy,’ Gervaux instructed.

The vehicle was moving much slower than the Mercedes but,
because the boulevard was straight, the inspector assumed Serena was able to
maintain line-of-sight contact. As the cart approached the top of the screen it
was joined by yet another from the bottom.

‘Looks like we got ourselves a convoy,’ Lavelle said in the
worst American accent Gervaux had ever heard.

‘Can we track that one as well?’ the inspector asked.

‘Sorry. We can only alternate between two cameras at the
same time,’ the security officer replied, apologetically.

‘Okay, go to the lead vehicle.’

He pressed the back button to see the Mercedes disappearing
into an underground car park. The two policemen waited patiently for the
cameras to pick it up again. The seconds ticked by and the security officer
shifted uncomfortable in his seat.

‘Why have we lost sight of the vehicle?’ demanded Gervaux.
‘Can we switch to inside the building?’

‘We don’t have any cameras in there,’ the security guard
mumbled sheepishly.

‘I thought you said you had a hundred per cent coverage of
the complex?’ Gervaux retorted angrily.

‘We did have, but Herr Volker ordered us to remove the CCTV
from the car park shortly after the site was commissioned.’

‘Why would he do that?’ Lavelle chipped in.

‘I… I’m not sure,’ came the stuttered response.

‘Didn’t you think to ask, at the time?’ the sergeant
pressed.

‘But Herr Volker is head of CERN Council. It wasn’t our
position to question his authority,’ the security officer protested
indignantly.

‘How can you secure the complex if you can’t see what’s
going on?’ Lavelle countered.

‘What’s that building being used for?’ Gervaux asked calmly,
trying to diffuse the spat.

‘It’s not,’ replied the security officer. ‘I mean, it’s
vacant. From what I understand, it was sub-let to another company because it
was surplus to requirements, but they have never occupied the building. They
even have their own security check-point on the far side of the compound.’

‘So you’ll be able to tell us if anybody’s been coming and
going over the last few weeks?’

The security officer shook his head. ‘We don’t operate that
gate. They have their own people.’

‘Isn’t that a little odd?’ the inspector queried.

‘It’s not unusual for sub-contractors to be used in the
security business. Besides, Herr Volker authorised it.’

Inspector Gervaux fell silent, trying to make some sense out
of it all. Their prime suspect, Anjit Bose, had gone missing, but he was a
known associate of Halligan, whom they had subsequently discovered was
implicated in the bombing. Herr Volker, who just happened to be their prime
suspect’s parental guardian and the person responsible for recruiting Halligan,
was, from what they had seen today, capable of harbouring a fugitive. Ergo:
Volker
had
to be the ringleader.
But why would he want to destroy the
Collider?
He didn’t have all the answers, but the one thing he was certain
about was that they needed to have a serious conversation with Herr Volker
about his involvement.

‘Can you go back to the buggies?’ Gevaux requested.

One cart had stopped just outside the entrance to the car
park and was now abandoned. There was no sign of the other.

‘I think it’s time we joined the party,’ the inspector
gestured to his sergeant, who followed him out of the door.

Tom had been filled in on the way to the Bunker as to why
Volker suspected he had been framed by Deiter to act as scapegoat for the
bombing.

‘But why me?’ he asked as they turned into the underground
car park.

‘Nothing personal, but you were the ideal candidate.’

‘Thanks,’ Tom replied sarcastically and then had a thought.
‘Is that why you recruited me in the first place?’

Frederick looked hurt. ‘Not at all. None of this was
planned. The idea was simply to disable the Collider as we had done in the
past. It was supposed to look like an accident and nobody was supposed to get
hurt. Unfortunately, Deiter miscalculated the amount of explosive required,
which resulted in the deaths of those poor maintenance workers and brought the
police to our doorstep. The last thing SHIVA needs is this kind of attention.’

Frederick’s explanation made sense, but Tom still wasn’t
fully able to trust him. He understood the motives behind the organisation, but
didn’t necessarily agree with the way they set about achieving their
objectives. Two men had died and he could go to prison for a very long time as
a result.

That was why he hadn’t told Volker that Serena was following
them. He had seen her pull out of the alley in his wing mirror and was
concerned that she wouldn’t be able to keep up. He had every intention of
slowing Frederick down if she dropped too far back, but he hadn’t needed to. As
they turned into the car park, he looked to his left and could just make out
the outline of the white buggy in the distance.

They got out of the car and Frederick led them to the lift.
He pressed the button and the doors slid open immediately, reassuring Frederick
that nobody else was in the building. If he’d have had to wait for the lift to
arrive, it would mean that either somebody was in the offices above them or,
worse still, in the Bunker. They stepped in and Frederick retrieved the key
from his pocket and inserted it into the control panel. He pressed the alarm
button and the lift started to descend.

‘What is this place?’ Tom felt a little uneasy about losing
his backup.
There’s no way Serena would be able to follow me down here.

‘We call it the Bunker,’ replied Frederick. ‘It’s the
operational headquarters of our unit. SHIVA has developed a matrix of
autonomous cells scattered throughout the world. Each group is led by a head,
often working in isolation, making all the decisions based on the fixed
fundamental principles of our founding fathers. Each cell has an objective and
functions independently, making the main organisation virtually immune to
detection or penetration by our adversaries. The identity, location, or actions
of other cells is restricted to the upper echelons to prevent a total network
collapse in the event of an individual unit being compromised.’

‘Sounds very sophisticated,’ Tom observed as the doors
opened again. Frederick preceded Tom out of the lift and made his way down the
corridor.

‘It has to be. We’ve learnt over the years, from bitter
experience, that we are seen as a threat to man’s quest to develop the ultimate
weapon. Our members are relentlessly pursued and, once exposed, ruthlessly
expunged.’

‘But why is SHIVA here? CERN is dedicated to the peaceful
pursuit of the discovery of the God particle.’

Frederick stopped and turned to Tom. ‘Given the downturn in
the global economy, CERN is one of only a few government-funded organisations
in the world never to have had its budgets cut. The Collider itself cost nearly
$5 billion to construct and we spend a little over that each year in running
costs. To date, the project has cost over $25 billion. Putting that into
perspective, America’s space shuttle programme was axed to save the US economy
a tenth of what we spend each year in search of the God particle. So, ask
yourself one question –
cui bono?
Who benefits?’

Tom shrugged.

‘Are you aware of the expression, “whoever pays the piper,
calls the tune”?’ Frederick waited for Tom to acknowledge before continuing.
‘The research to discover the God particle is being conducted in the name of
science; but, once we have proven its existence and can replicate it at will,
then the implications are that it could be used for military applications.’

‘The ultimate deterrent – a doomsday weapon?’ Tom suggested,
expounding on Frederick’s inference.

‘It’s possible,’ Frederick concurred. ‘SHIVA’s mission here
was to prevent it ever getting to that stage. It was to forestall the discovery
of the God particle to such an extent that its monetary backers would lose
faith in the project and move onto something else.’

‘So, you weren’t aware that the Collider could affect the
Earth’s electromagnetic field?’

‘Not until you showed me the document. In hindsight, I
should have listened to Professor Morantz. But at the time it sounded
preposterous.’ He opened the door to the Bunker and switched on the lights. ‘We
should be safe down here. Only SHIVA is aware of its existence.’

‘But I can’t stay down here forever,’ Tom protested.

‘The reason I’ve told you all this is that I want you to
become part of SHIVA,’ replied Frederick. ‘I want you to take over my role as
head of this cell. What we need now, more than any other time in SHIVA’s
history, are visionaries, leaders that can inspire the next generation of
scientists to follow a moralistic code. I’m not getting any younger and my
usefulness to the organisation is almost at an end; but what I can do is speak
to Inspector Gervaux and tell him that I planted the device and implicated you.
That way, you’ll be in the clear to continue the work we started here.’

Both men were startled by the slow clapping of hands. They
spun round to see Deiter framed in the doorway and, behind him, Serena
struggling against the grip of a security guard in a navy blue uniform, holding
a semi-automatic weapon out in front of him.

‘Very commendable, Herr Volker,’ he said. ‘But I suggest
that nobody is going anywhere for the time being.’